


Frank Hathaway meets Sebastian

by mzrowan



Category: Shakespeare and Hathaway
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 01:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzrowan/pseuds/mzrowan
Summary: How Sebastian came to be Frank's assistant





	Frank Hathaway meets Sebastian

It was a strange quirk of Frank Hathaway’s life that he had never actually hired anyone. When he was in the force, underlings and co-workers were assigned to him by higher-ups. Now that he was in private work, it seemed like they were being assigned to him by...well, for lack of a better term...higher powers. (Not that he believed in that muck.) Take Sebastian, for instance...

* * *

Sebastian tried to sneak past the door to his landlady’s costume shop and up to his lodgings. He was behind on his rent, and he had a feeling Gloria hadn’t appreciated that his “quiet closing night cast party” had somehow turned into a three-day marathon of sex, drinks, and brunch. Well, in their defense, they’d just done _Cabaret_...they’d had a lot of pent-up sexual frustration to burn off...

He’d almost made it when she called out. “Sebastian, darling, could you come here a minute?” Sebastian spun on his heel and put on his most saintly smile as he approached the shop counter.

“Sebastian, I need a favour from you. I’ve had a call from some private detective. Says he needs a full ‘old man’ kit and doesn’t have time to come in to pick it up. I told him we don’t do deliveries, but...” She waved her hand vaguely. “Would you be a dear and take it over? His office isn’t far.”

Sebastian pulled himself up to his full height. “I am _not_ a delivery boy! I did three years at RADA, you know!”

“Yes, I know, I know,” she said wearily. “I’ll knock twenty quid off your rent and –” she raised her eyebrows at him sternly, “we’ll forget about that little whatever-it-was you were hosting upstairs that scared half my customers away.”

“Um, right, deal.” He grabbed the package and headed out the door hastily.

* * *

Sebastian paused for a moment to read the sign next to the door – “Hathaway Investigations” (how sickeningly appropriate for this town, he thought). He opened it cautiously and found himself in an empty reception room. No, more than empty – abandoned, perhaps never occupied at all. He crossed the room and poked his head through the doorway to the inner office. “Hello...?”

A rumpled, unshaven man leapt up from his desk. “Finally!” he bellowed. “You’re from the costume shop, right?”

“Yes, I am. You are –” Sebastian glanced at the package, “...Frank Hathaway, I presume?”

“Yes, yes, yes, who else would I be?” He rushed past Sebastian, grabbing the package on the way. “Just in time!” He was heading towards the outer door when Sebastian cleared his throat significantly and held out his hand.

“Oh, right, uh...” Frank fished a key out of his pocket. “I’ve got to go, I’ve a cab waiting, lock up behind you, will you?”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Sebastian with the office key in his hand and a stunned expression on his face.

* * *

Sebastian looked around slowly. A real private detective’s office! How exciting! This could be very helpful should he ever be called upon to play a sleuth. And seeing how he’d been left so rudely “on his tod,” as they’d been taught to say in the RADA dialect class... (Who was Tod, he wondered idly, and why was it so notoriously bad to be _on_ him?) 

He was sitting in Frank’s chair, looking around the office with a proprietary air, when the phone rang. He looked at it for a moment, then picked it up with a flourish. “Hathaway Investigations, how can we be of service?”

“Oh my....mm....mm....yes, I’ll have my associate call you as soon as he comes back in from the cold. He’s currently deep undercover on a very important investigation. Shouldn’t be too long, though. Thank you!” He scribbled down a name and number.

* * *

Somehow he was still there, tidying and taking the sporadic calls, hours later. He’d just been contemplating taking the curtains down and burning them when Frank appeared in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” 

Sebastian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What _was_ he doing here? Then an idea sprung fully formed from his head, like Athena from Zeus. Only this goddess’ name was Rent.

“I’m your new executive assistant.”

“My what?”

“You heard me. I’ll answer the phones, keep the chaos under control, do research, and if you ask me _very_ nicely, I may do the odd spot of undercover work.” (Secretly, he hoped it would be more than the odd spot.) “I did three years at RADA, I’ll have you know.” He paused. “Oh, and I’m a raging queen, in case you haven’t noticed. Will that be a problem?”

Frank rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I hadn’t noticed _that_. And no, it’s not a problem.” Sebastian’s eyes lit up, and Frank hastened to clarify. “I mean, I’ve got no problem with your...ah...personal proclivities. Whatever, no business of mine. But I've also got no need for an assistant!”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Sebastian countered, waving the handful of messages in Frank’s face. “And the state of your filing cabinets!”

Frank sighed. He hated to admit it, but the boy had a point. “Fine, fine. You’re my new executive assistant.” Sebastian beamed. Frank continued: “The position pays £8 an hour.”

Sebastian's grin turned to a gawp and his eyes flashed. “£8 an hour! That’s barely above minimum wage! £10 an hour.”

“£8.50, and that’s my final offer.”

“Alright, £8.50.” Sebastian raised a finger to forestall the triumphant smile spreading across Frank’s face. “And I get unlimited time off for auditions, rehearsals, and shows, no questions asked.”

“Fine by me!”. The less he’s working for me, Frank thought, the less I have to pay him. “But stay out of my drawers!”

Sebastian made a moue and glanced downward at Frank’s trousers. “Oh, honey, I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere _near_ your drawers!”

“No, I meant my desk drawers! My _desk_ drawers!”

Sebastian threw his arm around Frank and put on his best Bogey. “Frank, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”


End file.
